Santiago and Valparaiso, 8 avril, 2013

Santiago and Valparaiso, 8 Avril , 2013

Two stories to tell. The first describes a short tour with other students to Valparaiso, the second largest port in Chile. To describe it is to combine similarities with the hillside overlook of San Francisco, with a bit of the colorful architecture of New Orleans. The direction of the streets seems to fit the contours of the hills, adding to the appearance of houses and shops leaning over to inspect and evaluate your worth. Perhaps the homes do lean a bit due to the severity of prior earthquakes. But, repair was rapid and I saw little evidence. Colorful murals on the walls are found frequently as one takes a turn around the corner, to view some interpretive display. As noted, the harbor attracts tankers from all over the world, several were lined up waiting for their turn to load or unload.  The water appears clean due to the intensity of blue and green reflected toward the hillside overlooks. Here and there are massive sea lions mounted on various structures in the bay. Funiculars, like ski trams, are in several locations for those wishing to avoid climbing the streets. Numerous green parks and statues of heroic figures are found at lower elevations. To my delight and dismay many shops of artisans attract my attention, but we have no time for me to inspect adequately. But less than two hours away, I hope to get in another visit before departing from Chile.
Second part concerns my family. I have attended birthdays, a wedding, anniversaries, social events, Easter mass during my visits. I have not experienced a birth. But, this weekend the ultimate occurred, with the sudden death of my Chilean father. I have several skills and abilities, but confidence with what to do in these situations is lacking. But, I guess my placement was somewhat fortuitous. Walter is from Holland originally and had family in Europe and US, but they speak no Spanish. My family speaks little English, so I became the interpreter and bearer of the sad news to his family of origin. The service was as quick as the death. He passed on Saturday, service was on Sunday, and cremation occurs Monday. The process interested me as after the service his body was lowered into the ground, though not covered, to rest overnight. Then the day of cremation he will be raised and cremated. The idea of returning to the earth, even if only symbolically, appeals to me as part of the completion of our cycle, regardless of belief.

This morning as I walked to school, the weekend event was on my mind. My mother, despite my plea, got up to prepare me breakfast. She was on my mind as I walked to school. Sidewalks are full of people walking or biking to their destinations on weekday mornings. The day, climatically was hinting at a bright, cheerful, sunny day. However, as almost always, the people hurry toward work or school, expressionless. An ambulance rushes by as I wonder what occupies their minds, while life itself might go as quickly by. Then, coincidentally, perhaps, a young man comes in my direction, also with some indication of preoccupation, and as he closes in he crosses himself, as if in church. For me or himself?

Be kind to my memory when you do remember me
Let the thought rest easy on the pillow of the past
Don´t recall the tears and heartaches
Let the years erase the mistakes
Grab a hold of something good and try to make it last
Hang my picture in your mind, dust it off from time to time
When the light is right and I won´t fade away
I´ll be smiling from the wall
When your feet step down the hall
Watching as you go about your day

Then speak my name occasionally to a stranger that you meet
Tell them about a man you knew who wasn´t all that bad
And do a little favor for me
Recollect a funny story
Something that will make you smile whenever you feel sad.
Hang my picture in your mind, dust it off from time to time
When the light is right and I won´t fade away
I´ll be smiling from the wall
When your feet step down the hall
Watching as you go about your day

Hold on to my ´´used to be´´

When a dream is all that´s left of me
Don´t leave me in the dark
Keep a candle burning
In the corner of your heart
Be kind to my memory when you do remember me
Let the thought rest easy on the pillow of the past
Don´t recall the tears and heartaches
Let the years erase the mistakes
Grab a hold of something good and try to make it last

Please say you will remember me

And, be kind to my memory. (M. Folson)